


Pink, Red, and Lavender

by agoldengalaxy



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, F/M, Panic Attacks, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoldengalaxy/pseuds/agoldengalaxy
Summary: Being awake in the middle of the night means Makoto sees things. Namely, Kyoko’s dead body.
Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Pink, Red, and Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> dr3 anime fucked me up so enjoy
> 
> kudos/comments always appreciated!

Things were quiet now. The days seemed bright, and the future even brighter. But everything bright couldn’t shine forever; sometimes it had to dim for just a moment before it could keep going.

The former super high-school level hope often found himself reflecting on this. So much had been lost, but there was also so much more good to look for. Makoto was, of course, optimistic by nature, but even he couldn't keep it up in every little moment.

He lay in bed on his side, opening his eyes slowly. The time blinked on his side table, telling him it was 3:17 am. Why he had woken up at a time like this, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it had been the stress of the day. Being back at Hope’s Peak, now as its principal, had its fair share of ups and downs, but he was positive it had been the right choice for him in the long run.

He sat up slowly, quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. Sleep had never really been  _ easy _ , but that didn’t mean he didn’t get frustrated about it.

Letting his hands fall into his lap, he took a deep breath, glancing down to his right.

Laying on her back, her head tilted slightly toward him, was Kyoko, unconscious and unaware of her boyfriend’s discomfort, a ray of moonlight giving him just enough light to see her relaxed face. Her one hand lay at her side, gloved palm facing the ceiling - perhaps he had been holding it before he fell asleep. He smiled lightly to himself, reaching forward to brush some hair from her face. She didn’t move. He blinked. 

The room warped.

And all of a sudden he was back in the Foundation’s Headquarters, sitting on a cold concrete floor with Kyoko lying there, blood dripping down her face. Not asleep, dead; dead because of him, locked in another killing game with seemingly no end in sight. His ears were muffled, his world crumbling beneath him.

Biting his tongue, he kept from gasping, tasting copper as he drew some blood. He tensed up, blinking feverishly until the image disappeared and he was left with the reality of her laying in bed beside him. He had known, logically, that she was just sleeping, but the mind did love to play tricks.

Despite the fact that he could physically see her breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest proof of it, he wanted so badly to wake her, to call to her, to meet those familiar lavender eyes again and be completely sure. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It was stupid, and she probably wouldn’t be too happy if he did. And why would he wake her up in the middle of the night just to check if she was alive? He knew the answer, but even still…

He turned his gaze away, bringing his knees to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. Breaths in and out. That was in the past. Everything was fine, everything was fine, she was alive. But he felt cold all over, like his heart had dissolved into ash and left an empty hole in his chest. And he was scared. God, he was scared. She was right beside him and yet she felt miles away.

Tears gathered in his eyes and he held onto his knees just a little tighter, squeezing his eyes shut. The walls moved closer, his breath came faster, the smell of blood filled his nose and harsh colors swirled around his closed eyelids. Bright pinks dotted with red, dripping up and down like a lava lamp, then splattering across a once-living canvas. Munakata’s voice, echoing through his ears. It was his fault, it was all his fault...

“Makoto. Hey.”

A voice cut through the splash of blood. Realizing he’d been trembling, he lifted his head, tears plopping down onto his lap as he looked toward the source of the voice. Kyoko, a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder, was staring at him with her normal stoicism, but her eyes gave away her worry. The familiar cool irises stared steadily, her breath was even, and she was alive.

Tears streamed and he couldn’t help but let out a sob. His super high-school level luck had never really failed him, but he had been so lucky. If Mikan’s antidote hadn’t worked, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. Could he have really moved on without her? She was his past, present, and future. Without her, the world had been dim and dark, and color hadn’t come back until he had met her eyes once again.

Before he knew it, he was being embraced, and he latched onto her like a terrified child. Her heart beat steadily against his own. “It’s alright. I’m right here,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder. He swallowed thickly, focusing on syncing his breath with hers. Tears slowed to a stop, and all that was left was a terribly familiar exhaustion and the warm comfort that was Kyoko.

Makoto slowly pulled back, and she cupped one of his cheeks, using her thumb to wipe one last stray tear. He reached up, resting his hand on top of hers, leaning into it. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Nonsense. I’d rather know you’re okay.”

A surge of gratitude blossomed in his chest, and he managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Kyoko.” He watched her unwavering expression for a moment before turning his gaze to the ceiling. “I’m only okay now because you’re okay.” Even without looking, he could sense the fleeting surprise on her features; the way her eyebrows quirked up just a little, corners of her mouth twitching. Quiet filled the room, so he looked back down. She was staring at her lap, hands balled into fists.

There were probably millions of things she could say, and she was most likely cycling through her options. Finally, she closed her eyes, let out a quiet sigh, and reached to take one of his hands, lacing their fingers together. “Makoto, it wasn’t your fault.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut, filling him with ice and taking his breath away. Unwittingly, he squeezed her hand and looked away. Deep down, he knew she was right, just like she always was. It wasn’t like they asked to be put in a second Killing Game, and he certainly had had no say in her forbidden action. But… “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed, fond annoyance on her breath. “I didn’t want you to do anything stupid,” she replied bluntly, in that tone she often took. “I wasn’t going to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away for a moment. “I wasn’t going to let you die for me. Not...not again.” He blinked, and a shiver ran down both of their spines. Sitting in that desk as the conveyor belt moved him closer, blood rushing in his ears, the entire room shaking…and then falling backwards into nothingness, left to starve to death if it were not for Kyoko.

And what  _ would  _ he have done if he had known her forbidden action? Surely...he would have done the exact stupid thing she was trying to protect him from.

“So you came to my rescue both times,” he said, a weak attempt at humor despite their difficult past. She didn’t smile, but her lips did twitch; he always counted that as a win. “I guess there’s no use thinking about how things would have been different, though.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, glancing toward their hands, still intertwined. “It seems your luck is still as potent as ever. We’ve both escaped death.”

Letting out a weak chuckle, he slowly moved to lay back down, and she followed suit. This time, though, she pressed herself against him, curling up at his side. It had taken a long while for her to get comfortable being in a relationship, and it had taken Makoto even longer to get used to her returning his love. He was so grateful.

He kissed the top of her head, then stared up at the ceiling, blinking tired, red eyes. Thoughts of despair were now gone, replaced with thoughts of Kyoko, of all the many things he loved about her. Most of all, though, was just that she was here, beside him, and that she would always be by his side. He looked down, gently sweeping some hair out of her face, listening to her quiet breathing. “I love you.”

“Mm. I love you too.” He hadn’t been expecting a response, but after a quick blush, those simple words easily lulled him to sleep. And in the morning, their bright future would continue.


End file.
